Partners in Crime
by JLlama
Summary: Post-Reichenbach. Sherlock has been back for 6 months and John is very glad to have him back in his life. But he has noticed some changes in Sherlock's behaviour. He has his suspicions about what is going. And it scares him. Or does it? Dark!Sherlock. Dark!John. Eventual Johnlock.
1. Chapter 1

**Partners in Crime**

John sat in his chair, staring blankly ahead. He really needed to clear his head. He was going out of his mind and had no idea where to go from this point. There was no reason for him to feel like this. Okay, there were several reasons. But it shouldn't actually have come as surprise to him. Did it even come as a surprise? The idea might have been at the back of his mind for months now. There had been some signs. Right now he felt only fear, but then again, there was another feeling hiding underneath. Maybe it was slight fascination with this new discovery.

Sherlock had gone off on his own a lot these last six months. And it had always been at night. When he got home he would always go take a shower. John couldn't exactly point out why that had been so strange, but he supposed that it just wasn't that usual for Sherlock to take showers every time he came home. John had also found a few bloody shirts and trousers. They all belonged to Sherlock. But strangest of all, Sherlock rarely seemed to be complaining about being bored.

Of course Sherlock had changed quite a bit after coming back from the dead. He was no longer the same man John had been living with three years prior. Naturally it was to be expected that you would change to a certain extent in three years. Especially if you have spent those three years pretending to be dead, while chasing around and killing off criminals.

Sherlock had been back for approximately six months now. John had been so happy to get him back. Well, he still was. He had been extremely lonely without Sherlock by his side. Over the 18 months they had lived together, before Sherlock's 'suicide', John had become so used to having Sherlock by his side. He had been in a complete blissful state for weeks after his return. But slowly he had begun noticing just how much Sherlock had changed.

Over the course of the last couple of months John had begun piecing all those little changes in Sherlocks's behavior together. He had wanted to find out what it was that Sherlock doing on the nights he left the flat. The conclusions he had come to had frightened him severely. What he had come up with was not what he had hoped for. At first he had thought that it couldn't be. But in the end he had come to the conclusion that it was the only explanation to his strange behavior.

One night when he felt Sherlock was going to leave he exclaimed that he was going to bed. Sherlock just nodded his head turned back to the experiment he was working on in the kitchen. John didn't go to his room to sleep. He had decided he would wait for Sherlock to leave and then follow him. He was yet to find a way to do that without Sherlock noticing. He thought hard and long. But in the end all he could do was to be as silent as possible and hope for the best.

An hour or so after John had headed for his room he heard some shuffling around from Sherlock. John pulled on his coat and waited for the perfect opportunity to follow. He was all ready and dressed for sneaking after his flat-mate. He heard Sherlock putting on his coat and heading for the door. When the door had closed behind Sherlock, John too headed for the street. He had to keep his distance from his friend and had to keep himself in the shadows. It would have all be ruined if he had been noticed by the man he was following. Also if his suspicions were right it could quite easily mean the end of him. But John had chosen not to dwell too long on that thought. He had mostly been following Sherlock to be proven wrong. Oh god, he had hoped his suspicions were wrong.  
There had been almost no one else out in the cool night air. Well, there had been a few people going home from pubs and maybe work. But mostly everyone had been walking in groups. They had walked through the streets of London for a while longer. It had been thinning out in groups of people. At some point Sherlock had turned into an alley. John had stopped to listen whether he could still hear his friend's footsteps. He had not been able to hear anymore footsteps. It had seemed as if Sherlock had stopped inside the alley. John had hid in the shadows waiting for Sherlock to reappear. When he hadn't, John had sat down waiting for something to happen. After what felt like hours a single person had come walking down the street. John had paid no attention to that. He had been contemplating whether or not to leave. It hadn't seemed like anything was going to happen. Of course it was weird that Sherlock hadn't reappeared, but John just assumed the man had found another way to leave. When John had decided upon leaving, he had suddenly heard a muffled scream. He had turned around to see a pair of pale hands drag a person into the alley.

John quickly headed towards the alley. Even though John had known he was about to have his suspicions confirmed, he hadn't been able to stay away. He was standing at the corner and peeked at what was happening right in front of his eyes.  
Sherlock was towering over, what John assumed to be a young man, who had probably been walking home from a pub somewhere. Sherlock had already stabbed the man with a large knife. He had been wearing a gigantic smirk on his pale face. He had begun stabbing the man again and got the blood splatter all over his clothes. His coat had been thrown on the ground as to not be ruined by the blood. John had been somewhat transfixed by the sight of all the blood. He had never thought that he would be this interested in seeing a murder being committed. But he had been, he still was. He had felt the adrenaline rush through his veins. Without noticing it at first, he had then been sporting a smile on his face. God, this reminded him so much of the army. Sure, he had been a doctor and his job had been to save lives. But he had killed people. Back then it had of course been a necessity. But maybe he had enjoyed it a bit too much. He had also remembered the rush he had got from killing the cabbie all those years ago. It had almost felt good. Who had he been kidding? It had felt really good. But he had brushed it off as being happy that he had saved Sherlock's life. Now it had gotten him thinking that just maybe he had been suppressing his need to kill for a very long time. He had been contemplating this for quite a while when he was pulled out of his thoughts by a voice.

"I know you're there John. Why don't you just show yourself?" Sherlock hadn't been looking in his direction. He was busy cleaning off his hands with a few hand wipes.

John didn't know what to do. He was somewhat fearing for his own life now. He had just seen how easily Sherlock killed another human being. There was no way he would show himself in front of him at that moment. The next thing he knew he had begun running towards 221B Bakerstreet. Not that he would be any safer there. But then he would have time to contemplate what he had just seen. Maybe he could even come up with an idea for how to escape death by the hands of his beloved friend.  
He ran up the stairs to their flat. He didn't even think about him perhaps waking up poor Mrs. Hudson. There was no need bothering to lock the door. Sherlock of course had his own key. John had run directly for his chair.

That was where he was situated contemplating what he had just experienced and his future life with Sherlock. He wasn't sure for how long he had been sitting there. But suddenly he heard footsteps and the door opening. The doorframe was filled by a tall dark figure. The two men stared at each other for a couple of minutes. John didn't want to be the first one to speak. He sat waiting for Sherlock to make the first move. Maybe even for Sherlock to put an end to it all.

Sherlock stared at John curiously. He was hoping for some sort of reaction. But all he got was a nervous stare. In the end Sherlock found it that he had to make the first move. But it had him wondering how to go about it. There was no easy way to talk about this subject. But it was a necessary thing about it if they wanted to move on from this point. So he cleared his throat.

"John. I suppose we need to talk." All he got from that was a pair of lifted eyebrows. "I am a killer, and before you ask. No. I am not going to turn myself in. And no, I am not going to kill you. Well, that is as long as you keep your mouth shut.", A small smile playing on his lips while he said it. It was an almost hopeful smile. Not because of the thought of being able to kill John. God no, he was rather hoping not to ever find it necessary. He was rather for a continuing friendship with his flat mate.

John was wondering about his own reaction to this. He had never even thought about turning Sherlock in. In the end Sherlock was still his best friend even if he was a killer and they weren't that close anymore. John also had trouble shaking off the thoughts he had had when watching his friend killing that man. He had somehow felt his own bloodlust. That made John smile a bit. He was severely fucked up in his head.

Sherlock just stood staring at the smiling man in the chair. He was slightly taken aback by that small smile playing on John's lips. He had thought there would be more fear showing on his face. But in the end all he got from his friend was maybe a tiny bit of nervousness paired with a smile. But Sherlock was now hoping that this meant good news for his friendship with John. Maybe they could continue it even though Sherlock had become a psychotic killer.

"I'm not going to turn you in Sherlock, and before you say it. No, it has nothing to do with me hoping not be killed by you. I'm not turning you in because I don't want to. You are my best friend and I care for you. I will always be there for you as your assistant no matter you do. Even if I have to help with murder, that's fine."

At first Sherlock was a little dumb-struck. This was much better than what he had ever dared hope for. He couldn't believe John even wanted to continue assisting him in whatever he did. But after the initial confusion was over he couldn't help begin chuckling. This night was turning out just perfect. He had been so nervous about ending up having to kill his best and only friend. But instead he had supposedly gained a partner in crime.


	2. Chapter 2

After their conversation and Sherlock had stopped chuckling, silence had enveloped the room. Neither knew what to say. It wasn't every day you found out that your best friend and flat mate likes going around and killing people. And it definitely wasn't every day you tell him that you'll help him out with that specific interest of his. But none the less it had been what John had done just then. He had nothing to say. He had needed to think about what he had just agreed to do. So he had excused himself and gone to bed.

For Sherlock it hadn't been not knowing what to say, that had silenced him. Instead he had been thinking about all the possibilities that had appeared before him, now that he had John to help him carry out the killings. Though, when John went to bed he had become a bit worried. But he had brushed it off as John just being tired.

John still had a John had a job to get up to in the morning. After Sherlock's jump he had continued working. It was still just locum work. But it had somehow paid the bills at the apartment he had moved to after leaving Baker Street. When he had returned after a year and a half, the other part of the rent had been paid by Mycroft. He had thought that it was the least he could after everything. He had already been paying the full rent while John had been gone. So when John wanted to return he had suggested that he would continue to the full rent, but John had been completely opposed to that idea. He had actually wanted to pay everything himself, but found that he would never be able to afford it. So Mycroft now paid Sherlock's share.  
Mrs. Hudson had been extremely happy to have John return to the flat. They had met up a few times while he had lived elsewhere, but John had kept their meetings to a minimum. She had just reminded him too much of Sherlock. But after a year and a half John had decided it was time for him to move on and face the world. And he had thought moving back to Baker Street was the perfect first step. And another year and a half later Sherlock had returned.

John lay in his bed. For the second time this night he has to think about his own and Sherlock's actions. He had just told Sherlock that he would help him commit murders. But was he ready for that? Well, it wasn't exactly the idea of killing another human being that disturbed him. He was more afraid of getting caught. The idead of going to prison for murder wasn't really one that intrigued him. But then again he would be carrying out the murders together with Sherlock. When you put it like that it just didn't seem that frightening. First of all he would do anything for Sherlock. He had already killed for him once. Of course next time Sherlock would probably not be in any immediate danger. The next time he would kill someone it would be just for Sherlock's and his own entertainment. That thought intrigued him. Just thinking about killing someone with that amazing man by his side removed every single doubt he had in mind.


	3. Chapter 3

Sherlock gets bored very easily, especially now that he has returned to Baker Street. There's nothing for him to do. He gets no clients for his Detective Business. The police no longer contact him either. Everybody knows he is back. But they are no longer interested in working with him. Well, to be fair it was only ever Lestrade who was interested in working with him.

Lestrade had been quite shocked the day he had turned up at 221b to see how John was doing. That had apparently become some sort of ritual for him. He would show up to check up on John's mental well-being every few weeks. He had been doing that for three years. So yeah, he had been shocked when he had found both John _and_ Sherlock. At first it seemed as if he had thought he had gone mad. But when it seemed that John could see the man too, he had come to the conclusion that just maybe he wasn't seeing things. When that conclusion had been drawn he went from baffled to quite angry. He told Sherlock just how terrible he was and that he had no right to just go and disappear for three years. Especially since everybody thought he was dead. After he was done ranting he informed Sherlock that even though Sherlock's name had been cleared over three years he had been gone, nobody felt safe working with him anymore. Yes, Sherlock's name had been cleared just around a month after his funeral. When you simply looked into it you could easily find that there never was any Richard Brook. And some of his former clients had come forth and said that it was simply impossible for Sherlock to have invented their cases.  
But people still had their suspicions about Sherlock. Most people would still have that little voice in the back of their heads telling them, that perhaps Sherlock was still a fraud. So Lestrade, though very sorry for this, didn't dare working with Sherlock anymore. He strongly advised Sherlock to seek another career, since he would have a frightfully hard time finding any clients for his business.

So what was a man like Sherlock to do? He could hardly go and find himself an ordinary job. First of all he had no idea how to go about that. Second of all he would most likely find it incredibly dull. He had then come up with the idea to simply continue what he had been occupying himself with over the last three years. Sure, it was not exactly a profitable business. He made no money of off it. For him to be able to do that required him becoming a professional hit man. And that wasn't really his dream-job. Sure he could easily just choose freely between the job-offers like he used to with his former business, but he assumed that there wouldn't be enough of these jobs for him to actually have a choice. He had also come to like his freedom quite a bit. In the end he had no idea either how to set up this kind of business, too much of a hassle. So in the end Sherlock had dismissed that the whole idea. He had decided killing would just become a hobby he would occupy his time with every time he got bored.

Mycroft knew that Sherlock had no means to make money. He continued paying Sherlock's part of the rent and other living expenses. When Sherlock had just gotten back he had even gone to some lengths to find some way for Sherlock to start up his business again. In the end he had found no way. He wasn't interested in forcing the police into working with Sherlock. Sure, Lestrade would have been easy enough to convince. But there was a whole police force to convince. Lestrade had also been degraded and did no longer hold the same position in the force. He now worked for DI Dimmock. And yes, Mycroft may be the British Government, but he couldn't meddle with just anything he wanted. And a very angry yard that had been forced into working with an annoying Sherlock Holmes was not really in the interest of the government. In the end Sherlock had received advice from Mycroft about changing his career path. "Or at least get yourself a hobby." Mycroft had told him before he had been ushered out of the flat by his annoyed little brother. But at that Mycroft had had no idea just what sort of hobby his dear brother would take up.


	4. Chapter 4

After every doubt about killing people together with his flat mate had been removed from his mind, he had just been waiting around for a notice from Sherlock that tonight was the night. It was five days since the night John had found out about Sherlock's hobby. But he knew that a few more days could pass before Sherlock would have to go again. Apparently killing someone kept him going longer than a case could. Sherlock also had a few experiments going. They all involved body parts and John had his suspicions that they all came from his last couple of victims.  
This made John slightly nervous. What if some people found Sherlock's hidden body-parts around the flat? What if they clever people? What if they knew about the different murders? There were so many 'what ifs'. John had mentioned it to his flat mate. But it seemed as if he liked the thrill of the possibility of getting caught. John guessed that that was what kept him going. Sherlock could easily go a week without doing too many insane things, like shooting a wall, just because of the excitement of possibly getting caught by the police. John was also kept excited by the sheer thought of someone finding out about him keeping Sherlock's secret and his wish to join in.

"John!" a shout ripped John from his thoughts. "John, it is time. Are you ready for this?" In front of John stood a very excited Sherlock.

"Oh God yes!" John jumped up from his chair in the living room and grabbed his coat.

They sneaked down the stairs. They had no intention of waking Mrs. Hudson. She definitely wouldn't approve of what they were doing tonight. Sherlock took his long strides down the street, while John was trying to keep up just like it had always been. This was the first time in over three years John was helping Sherlock out with his "work". This thought almost made John skip and dance down the street in pure bliss.

"Where are we going exactly?" John had wondered whether his friend actually had chosen all his victims beforehand or if he normally just stumbled upon random people. He tended to lean towards the latter. The first option didn't seem likely. Sure, he could have been looking into the life of a certain person. But then again, where would he have met his victim? John had never seen him stalking anyone. He never went outside other than when he was going out to kill or when John forced him to come along for a walk. During those walks John had to suffer through his friend's deductions about people around them. Well, suffer wasn't exactly the right word. Especially since it helped lighten up their walks. And it was quite enjoyable walking by his friend. It also helped reminding him that his friend was back for good. Yes, it had been six months since Sherlock's return but that didn't mean John was used to his presence in his life. That was probably how it would continue to be for quite some time. But if Sherlock just kept sticking around, he would probably get used to him over time.

"Don't know just yet." Sherlock said, while he kept walking. "But I'm sure we find some place that will be just perfect. There are lots of people in London that walk around alone at night. We will have to find a secluded area, but also a place where people still walk by."

John just nodded even though Sherlock probably couldn't see it in the dark. They kept on strolling down the streets for a while. In the end Sherlock settled on a park. He claimed there would at least be a couple of people to walk home from their jobs or from pubs and so on. John just agreed. He wouldn't have felt comfortable walking home alone through a dark and secluded park. Not unless he carried his gun. Which he rarely did. But then again some people never saw it as a possibility for themselves to be attacked in a park. That was mostly something that happened on the telly or to other people.

They hid behind a group of trees and bushes beside the path way. John's heart was beating fast. He had never done anything like this before. It almost felt surreal. But it also excited him immensely.  
While they waited for someone to walk by, John's excitement disappeared, though. He began to feel the freezing cold of the night and wondered whether he should have worn a different coat. He sighed and began rubbing his own arms to keep himself warm.

Sherlock noticed this and scooted closer to John. This earned him a baffled look from John. "You are cold. If we sit closer you won't be as cold." Sherlock put his arm around John. This ended up making John even more surprised. He wasn't used to having Sherlock this close. It wasn't that John minded. It was actually quite nice for some reason. Before Sherlock had jumped off of St. Barts he had often been in John's personal space. He hadn't cared much for John's boundaries. But ever since he came back he had kept his distance. Probably because he didn't want John to find out about his hobby and because he understood that John needed space.  
But now that Sherlock was sitting in such close proximity it felt really nice. So he just shook his head and smiled.

John was about to fall asleep when they finally heard footsteps in the distance. He rubbed his eyes to wake himself and looked up at Sherlock who sported a slight grin. This made John's heart beat fast again. He could finally feel the adrenaline pumping through him. He also noticed his friend's heart beating too. It was good to know that you weren't the only one this excited.

There were two people walking towards them. It seemed to be two young men on their way home from the pub or somewhere along those lines. They both seemed to be in a good mood, probably slightly intoxicated. John looked up at his flat mate as to ask what the plan was. It had completely slipped his mind to ask how they would be executing this. Sherlock noticed his look and tried to demonstrate to John that they would kill them by strangulation. He also handed him a pair of latex gloves for safety. John quickly understood what it was Sherlock was demonstrating and put the gloves on.  
When the men were in reach they both took ahold of one the men. They each pushed a man to the ground and straddled him with their hands wrapped around his neck. John noticed the terrified look on his young man's face. Was it because he at the moment couldn't breathe? Or was it because of the sinister smile that John was sporting at the moment? John assumed that both were at fault for the terrified look. Beside him he heard Sherlock laughing a bit. This made John's smile grow and he couldn't help but giggle a little. The young man, he was currently trying to kill, had stopped moving but still seemed to be alive. Sure, he should, as a doctor, be able to tell whether someone was alive. But he couldn't really put his head around that at the moment. Sherlock was standing up. Most likely because he had killed his man.

"I believe he _is_ dead, John." John looked up a bit confused. "He couldn't have survived 10 minutes with you strangling him."

Sherlock couldn't help but smile. This was perfect. John had been completely gone on the high of killing. That settled it. John would be the perfect assistant. This meant that he wouldn't have to even think about killing John. Not while John was as excited about this as he was. He could feel warmth spread through his body. He wasn't sure he would ever be able to kill his beloved John. So hopefully it would never come to that.

They headed home in the least suspicious way. John could still feel his heart beating fast. He hoped he would be able to sleep just a little. He had been called in for work. He would have to meet up the surgery in the morning. He knew that by then he would have come off of his high from murder. So he would probably be about to fall asleep all day at work. But right now he didn't care that much. He was just content walking home with Sherlock Holmes. Home from a crime scene, just like they used to. But only this time, home from_ their _crime scene.

All the way home John could hear Sherlock's heart pounding hard. John couldn't believe you could still be as excited about committing murder after already having killed so many people as Sherlock had. But on the other hand that made John's own future seem brighter. If someone like Sherlock Holmes could be as excited about killing after so long, how many times could he, John Watson, kill before it became trivial? He would probably never tire of it.

They sneaked up the stairs to their shared flat. John wanted to throw out his latex gloves and go straight to bed. But before he had time to get much further than just over the threshold of their flat he was slammed against the wall by his flat mate. And before he had time to register anything a pair of lips crashed against his own. John's mind went blank.


	5. Chapter 5

John's mind was completely blank. He couldn't even muster a reaction to the situation he was in. Well, how DO you react to your flat mate suddenly kissing you? He guessed it depended on the situation. But he was sure that not many people had been in his situation. I mean, coming home from committing a murder and suddenly having your best friend's lips on yours. That wasn't exactly something that happened every day. So perhaps it wasn't that strange that John was in doubt about which reaction applied in that situation. He the end he had to settle on surprise. He thought that to be the most appropriate reaction he could muster at that moment. John's mind was about to start functioning again when Sherlock decided to pull back.

Sherlock stared at John for a minute or so and then smirked a little. He turned around and went to lie on the sofa. He wasn't completely sure why he had done that. Well, the kissing thing. He supposed he just felt like it. He had needed that.

"What, the hell was that for?" John was completely out of his trance by now.

"Hmm?" Sherlock said, looking at the wall.

"You know exactly what I'm referring to!" John really needed to know why. And then Sherlock just decided to go and play dumb.

"No I don't know. It could be any number of things you tiny, little brain couldn't grasp the meaning of." Sherlock kept looking away from John.

"Oh, just stop it Sherlock. Just stop it. You know it is the kiss I am referring to. And now I would really like to know the reason why you decided to do it." John simply couldn't see any reason why Sherlock would want to kiss him. Sure, it had been very nice. If he had to be completely honest with himself he had been wondering, for quite some time, what it would be like to kiss his flat mate. Sherlock was attractive and John had come to love him over the years. But there was no explanation as to why this self-proclaimed sociopath and asexual would want to kiss him, John Watson.

"I guess I just felt like it. I was still high from our kill. And then I just felt a need to kiss you. It was nice. But now if you'll excuse me, I need to think." He still wouldn't look at John for just a second.

John stared at him for a few seconds. Then he just shook his head. When Sherlock was like this he couldn't expect to get anything from him. He went to pick up Sherlock's latex gloves, which he had thrown beside him on the sofa. He then went for the bin in the kitchen and threw both his and Sherlock's pair out. Pondering whether or not it was time for a cup of tea, he decided that going to bed would be the best idea at this point. It was around 03.30 am and he had to get at around 6 o'clock. But when he finally situated in his bed, he couldn't stop his mind from going at full speed. His thoughts were whirling around in his head. First of all he couldn't believe he had just killed for fun around an hour earlier. Second of all he couldn't quite wrap his mind around the kiss that had just occurred. But after lying there for a few hours, sleep eventually came to him.

Downstairs Sherlock's mind was working at the same speed. Though he his thoughts weren't quite on the murder. They involved John, and John alone. Or rather, kissing John. Why had he kissed John? Sure, it had been nice. But what had brought it on? He knew it wasn't the first time he had wanted to do it. But he had been able to stop himself from doing so, until now.  
He supposed it had to do with him finally sharing the experience of committing a murder with his best friend. That was something he had wished for, for a very long time. He had been so happy that he had let his own guard down and just went in for a kiss.  
He imagined John lying in his bed, not knowing what to think. That made him smile a little. John was adorable when he was going out of his mind. Not that Sherlock would ever reveal that to anyone. It would be his dirty little secret.


	6. Chapter 6

Eight days later John still wasn't quite able to forget the kiss Sherlock he and Sherlock had shared. He wasn't sure why a kiss bothered him much more than going around and killing people. Well, to be fair he had only accompanied Sherlock for one murder. There hadn't really been a need to go out and kill since then. So they had just gone about their daily lives. Sherlock had done his experiments, looking up different crimes around London and watched crap telly. John had gone to work, done some reading and joined Sherlock for the crap telly. At first John had thought it would be weird going work the day after the murder. But it had been surprisingly normal. It had been relaxing doing a normal job.  
Other than that it also meant he didn't need to deal with Sherlock. Not that anything was awkward between them. Actually, they had only gotten closer over the course of the last week. Murder was apparently a great bonding experience. They had talked a lot more than they had been for the six months. But it seemed as if the kiss had been completely forgotten by Sherlock. But knowing Sherlock, he assumed he had simply deleted it, because he either found it unimportant or because he just couldn't comprehend it. Probably a mixture of both. But John wasn't like Sherlock. He just couldn't let it go.

"Come on John. I am bored. So someone has to die." Sherlock was looming over him, looking at him with raised eyebrows.

So it was finally time for that again. John shuffled out of his bed, grabbed his coat and they both went down the stairs.

"Do you already have a destination in mind?" It was not that John cared in particular. He would follow Sherlock anywhere he went. But small-talk was nice. At least to him, it was. Sherlock wasn't especially talkative other than when he was blabbing out his deductions.

"I have an idea where we're going. I think it would be the perfect spot." A smile spread across his face and John could almost see Sherlock's eyes gleaming, even here in the dark of the night. This resulted in John getting excited as well and he giggled silently.

They arrived at their destination. John looked around for a bit. It all looked quite familiar. "I've been here before. But that was a long time ago. When was it?"

"This is Lauriston Gardens, John. Remember? The first crime scene I ever brought you to." John eyes widened at this information. Why had Sherlock decided for them to commit murder here?

"Why? Why did you want to come here? And today?" He simply couldn't grasp why Sherlock had chosen this destination. It seemed awfully out of character for him.

"Because this is where it all began. Our first crime scene together. I originally planned to bring you here last time, but decided against it. I assumed you would have argued that this place would be too risky. But I've decided that today is the day. And it is stupid to assume there is anything risky about this place."

"Wow, Sherlock. This is so unlike you. Nice. But unlike you. I'm sorry but, sentiment?"

"Who cares, John?"

"I don't. Like I said, this is nice. But you are right. This place seems a bit risky. I mean, people live here. Someone might hear." John looked at the darkened windows. People were probably asleep, but they would awake if they heard screams. And he still couldn't understand what motivation Sherlock had to bring this exact spot tonight. But hopefully that would get explained to him later on. Or maybe he would just never know.

"It is not as if we're going fire a gun or anything noisy like that. I like to commit my murders in silence."

"Okay. How about the possibility of us getting associated with the murder?"

"No. That would be illogical. Nobody remembers us going to a crime scene here more than four years ago. And it is not as if we can leave the body the same place. That would be a bit too risky, considering that the house has been renovated and people live there now."

John nodded at the logic of Sherlock's arguments. There was really nothing to worry about. They went and hid in the darkened alley of the house of their old crime scene.  
They waited for over an hour. The adrenaline had almost completely worn off.

"Sorry Sherlock, but there seems to be no one around. This is quite a quiet neighborhood."

Sherlock would have to agree with that statement. And that was really aggravating. He had really hoped for this night to work out in his favour. Well, he had originally meant for the body to be left where Jennifer Wilson had been found back then. But now that that had been ruined, he had at least hoped for them to be able to kill someone in the area. But if nobody was coming, what was the point in waiting around? He was just about to turn around and tell John that they would find someplace else, when he heard the distinctive sound of heals against pavement. Silently he sighed in relief. He turned towards John and saw a small smile playing on his lips. He had noticed the sound as well.

Catherine McGrath was having a really bad day. Nothing had really gone her way. At work they had told her she might get fired. Not because of her poor work-performance. That simply couldn't be it. She was one of their bloody best employees, so that just couldn't be it. No, she assumed that it was because the fact that she had refused her bosses sexual advances. He was a complete git.  
At the moment she was having an argument with her lover, now ex-lover, over the phone. Today he had told her that he was leaving her to go back to his wife. Another git. He kept saying sorry over and over again, while she kept making frustrated sounds because he wouldn't let her cut into the conversation. In the end she managed to scream: "Well, fuck you!", and she hung up on him. She stopped and stared angrily at her phone. It rang again and she gave a frustrated sigh. She chose to block the call. She was just about walk on when she felt a small sting on her right arm. When she spun around and looked to her side she saw tall dark haired male wearing a very sinister smile. He was also holding up an empty syringe, probably had been emptied into her body. She backed away and was just about to run away when strong arms held her back. She was being held by a small, stocky man with dishwater hair. He looked like the type that normally had a kind-looking face, but at the moment he was sporting an expression that was just as sinister as his partner's. She considered screaming for help. But when she was just about to open her mouth, a pair of hands covered her mouth. In the end she was dragged towards a dark alley.

She supposed that this would normally be the time consider what these men wanted from her. But at the time her mind wasn't working properly. She couldn't really wrap her mind around her possible very near future. Her mind was starting to slow down rather fast. She then remembered the empty syringe. And those were her last conscious thoughts.

Just like last time Sherlock handed John a pair of gloves. John Sherlock was already wearing his, so he hurried to put his own on. He saw Sherlock pull a knife from his pocket. It didn't look remotely familiar. He had never seen it lying around the flat. Though, it could have been hiding in Sherlock's bedroom. He never went in there.  
Sherlock had taken off his coat and put it on the ground. Then he proceeded to stab the unconscious woman several times. He looked at John, gleaming. He then motioned for John to take knife and have his own go at stabbing. John gratefully took the knife, took of his own coat, and stabbed her a few times. When they were both done Sherlock took the knife and put it by the body. They grabbed their coats and headed for Baker Street.

Once again they were extremely silent when heading up the stairs. When they were in the flat the silently closed the door and proceeded to both slump down on the couch. After a few minutes of sitting in silence John turned towards Sherlock. John's heart was pounding. Like the last time they went killing, he felt high. He could hear Sherlock's heart beating just as fast as his own. And he couldn't stop himself. He jumped on top of Sherlock and locked their lips. John poured all of the confusion and frustration he had been feeling over the course of the last week, into the kiss. At first Sherlock didn't respond but after a few seconds he was kissing John just as passionately.

"John, Bed. NOW!", Sherlock growled.


	7. Chapter 7

John awoke feeling a bit disoriented. He wasn't quite sure where he was. It most definitely wasn't his room he had awoken in. Another odd thing was the feeling of another person lying next to him. An arm was wrapped possessively around him. This arm did most definitely not belong to a female. If he had to guess the identity of the owner of this arm, he would put his money on his flat mate. He turned slightly and saw a curly mop of dark hair. The body beneath the curly hair was very much naked. John looked beneath the blanket that was covering his own body. Of course he was naked as well. John sat up and he was now very awake and remembered quite vividly their actions of the night. Both those that had taken place in Lauriston Gardens and the ones he had initiated once they were back in their flat. Now that he had had time to think about it he noticed that his backside did hurt a fair bit.

There was some stirring besides him. Apparently Sherlock had awoken by John's movements. At first he stared a bit confused at John. Then he gave him a slight grin. John tries to give him a smile as well, but fails miserably. He was too tired and confused for that.

"So Sherlock. We had sex?" John eyes Sherlock nervously. Though not looking him in the eyes.

Sherlock just rolls his eyes. "Obviously."

"Oh." He kept avoiding Sherlock's eyes.

"Oh please! Don't tell me you're having a sexuality crisis. Dull, John." Sherlock got up and left the room. The next thing John heard was the shower being turned on. He was left in bed opening and closing his mouth and looking very close to a fish.

Sherlock couldn't have been more wrong. He was most definitely not having a sexuality crisis. He had come to terms with his sexuality years ago. He knew he was bi-sexual. Had known it since his army days. He just hadn't liked people assuming him and Sherlock was a couple. Though, that had been mostly for Sherlock's sake. Whenever people had questioned his sexuality he had rightly answered that he wasn't gay. He didn't feel like he had lied. They had never been a couple or ever been on any dates. So no lies there.

Sherlock came back into the room to get dressed. Or rather he put on his pyjamas bottoms, grey shirt and blue dressing gown. He then proceeded to turn towards John.

"Bathroom is unoccupied. If you want a bath, that is. Which I assume." His lips quirked slightly upwards.

"Oh. Of course. Thank you." John got up but then decided against it. "Look Sherlock, I'm not having a sexuality crisis. Okay?"

Sherlock gave him a doubtful look. "What would you call it then? You can't look me in the eyes. You're also very silent. If that is not a freaking out, I don't know what it is."

"I never said I wasn't freaking out. All I said was that it wasn't because of my sexuality. I came to terms with that long ago."

"You are always saying that you are _not_ gay."

"That's because I'm not. I suppose the correct term would be bi-sexual."

"You always denied us being in a relationship."

"Because we were not. And I assumed that you wouldn't like people believing that."

"If I am to accept this. You have to tell me the reason why you are this freaked out right now." Sherlock was damn well annoyed at the moment. He couldn't stand not knowing something. He had always assumed John to be a complete closet case. But in the end he just didn't feel a need to discuss his sexuality with him, Sherlock.

"I am freaking out because I thought you were a virgin and asexual. But apparently you are neither. At least not if we look back on the sex we had some hours ago. I would also like to know where this leaves us. _God,_ I feel sore." John rubbed his poor buttocks.

Sherlock couldn't help but laugh. This was perfect. He had got John exactly where he wanted him. When they had gotten home and John had kissed him, all he had known at that moment was that he wanted John. Badly. At that moment he hadn't given much thought to where their actions would leave their, frankly, quite fragile friendship. But it had really worked out in his favour.

"This leaves us with the decision of whether or not we should take our relationship to the next level. I for one wouldn't mind being in a romantic relationship with you. But you should know that it wouldn't be anywhere near conventional. It would be us carrying on killing, going about our daily lives as per usual and maybe kissing and having sex occasionally."

It was John's turn to laugh. "I wouldn't have it any other way."


	8. Chapter 8

Over the next few weeks they kept on going about their daily lives, with the occasional kisses and sex. Just like they had agreed on. So it was during one of their make-out sessions on the couch, that they were suddenly interrupted.

"Hello Sherlock… Oh sorry, it looks like I am interrupting something." The intruder flushed with embarrassment.

"Oh Lestrade. How unusual to see you here. You rarely stop by anymore"

"I know, that's why I'm here today. I wanted to hear how you two were doing. But it seems I didn't need to worry."

"So you're saying that you suddenly felt like checking up on us. You, who have only stopped by twice during the last 6 months, suddenly wants to know how we're getting on."

"Yes I do. For you information, I haven't stopped by because YOU don't want to see me unless I have a case for you. And I haven't been seeing John because I wanted to give you two some time to get back into your friendship." Lestrade sighed. "But you are right. There is one more reason why I am here today. I wanted to hear your opinion about some murders."

"Why? You haven't been interested in my opinion ever since I came back."

"Yes, well, you know the reason why I can't come to you for help anymore. The rest of the Yarders do not even know I'm here today. I was just hoping from some input from you. But I can see I was interrupting something, so I'll just leave. I can see that you're not bored enough to help solve some murders."

True. Sherlock wasn't really that bored anymore. But naturally Lestrade needn't know why. "I have no interest in those. I am assuming I wouldn't be allowed at the crime scene. In that case, I have better things to do."

"I'm sorry but I cannot allow you at any crime scene. Or rather, the rest of the team wouldn't allow it. But couldn't you at least just look at the cases?"

Sherlock rolled his eyes. It would be extremely dull looking at the cases. He already knew the murderer/murderers. And there was no way he would be revealing that. "They are probably completely straightforward and tedious. I have no interest in such boring cases. And as you've already insinuated, I have other things to 'do'." At this he smirked and winked at John. He noticed John sputtering and going red as a tomato.

Lestrade blushed slightly as well and coughed. "These cases are not as dull as you are assuming. We are almost sure they are connected. Though the technique varies in all the cases. Even the number of murderers may vary as well. But if you are not interested I will leave you two to it.

"Hand them over. I will take a look at them." Sherlock couldn't have them connecting the murders. That might lead them to actually solve the case. That wouldn't do at all. He would find a way to mislead them.

"Thank you, Sherlock. That _really _would help." A thankful smile had spread across his face.

"Good day Detective Inspector." He signaled for Lestrade to take his leave.

"Oh, um, yes. Goodbye Sherlock and John. And once again, thank you." Sherlock was already ignoring him. But John gave him a small smile and a wave.

"What are you thinking? You can't solve these murders. They were committed by you and me." Sherlock looked at John as if he was a complete idiot. He went on to shaking his head and sighing.

"Of course I can't actually solve these murders. But I can mislead the Lestrade and the others. While I don't hold to much hope for the police and their intelligence, they may just surprise me this time. I have feeling that we haven't been careful enough. I may have gotten too caught up in the murders and not thought about consequences. But this is our opportunity to redeem that." John still didn't look convinced.

"While that all sounds fine, to you at least. I think you may be forgetting that Lestrade is not in charge anymore and he therefor no longer has the same influence of the investigation." Once again Sherlock had to shake his head at John's stupity.

"Naturally I know that, John. But while he may no longer be in charge he most certainly is cleverest of the bunch. Just think about the the DI in charge of him. If I remember correctly he was definitely not at all clever. So he surely seeks the advice from the much more experienced, Lestrade." Sherlock was making the face he always made when he thought himself clever.

"So how exactly are you planning on misleading the police?" John was most definitely excited to hear about Sherlock's brilliant plan.

Sherlock growled. "That is something I have yet to figure out."

"Well I guess that concludes our make-out session." But he got no response from Sherlock, who had already gone to his mindpalace.

John sighed and went to make himself a cup of tea.


End file.
